The Martyrdom of
Mayor George Moscone

Readers Remember

Where were you when you heard? If you have an interesting story, write to me and tell me what you remember. I'll select the best ones for inclusion on this page.

I was working that day in San Francisco, at a psychiatric facility. That day was one of the strangest in the four years I worked there. I arrived at work thinking there was an odd charge to the air - the way it sometimes gets before an impending weather change.

For over an hour that morning the patients were making weird restless animal sounds, howlings, groans and moans that started relatively softly but got louder and louder. The fact that windows on two stories of patient rooms opened up on a concrete walled courtyard didn't help - the echoing just seemed to feed what was going on. I became alarmed, even behind my office's two locked doors - I've never heard anything like it before or since.

Then there was sudden silence.

When I went out to see what had happened I was told by a hush-voiced psych tech that they'd just seen on TV that Moscone had been murdered by Dan White. (I believe we heard about Milk just a few minutes later. Not sure, though)

Everyone was frozen.

The unit was quiet the rest of the day and I've always wondered why the patients were moaning and crying out before they got the news.

A very strange, strange day.

Della Noche

I was at the airport, and as you might know there is a sign saying "Welcome to San Francisco" and gives the name of the Mayor. At the time it was Moscone. When I saw the sign it just hit me that this man was going to die. I heard later that he had been gunned down. There could have been no way for me to hear of it as I had just gotten off the plane. This type of thing has happened a few other times too, unfortunatly, it is usually always something bad.

Thistle

I was in fourth grade at the time, and we had just come back from lunch recess. My teacher came in the class, left the lights off, and said that the mayor had been shot and killed. This being a Catholic school, we said a prayer and had a moment of silence, then had a discussion period about the incident instead of resuming class.

alex c. lau

I WAS BORN IN SAN FRANCISCO. I WORK IN THE MEDIA. I REMEMBER SEEING GEORGE MOSCONE ON GOUGH STREET IN A HOLE WHERE A SMALL PARKING LOT WOULD SOON BE BEHIND THE DAVIES OPERA HOUSE. I WAS UNLOADING EQUIPMENT FOR A TV SHOT AND GEORGE AND SOMEONE ELSE WALKED OVER. HE DID NOT KNOW MY NAME BUT! HE KNEW ME FROM OTHER SHOTS I HAD WORKED ON. HE SAID HI TO ME AND OTHERS ON THE CREW AND WENT ON TO DISCUSS THE OCCASION WE WERE THERE (IT WAS A "DIGGING WITH THE SHOVEL AND POLITICIAN" TYPE OF AFFAIR IF I RECALL RIGHT. IN ANY CASE I LIKED GEORGE. HE WAS A HANDSOME GUY (ALWAYS HAD A TAN LOOK EVEN IN THE WINTER). ALWAYS HAD THE LOOK OF A PERSON WHO HAD A FUNNY THOUGHT IN MIND. I MISS HIM. I MISS THOSE TIMES. I GUESS I AM GETTING OLD. THINKING ABOUT THEN. IRONIC ISN'T IT; GEORGE HAVING HIS NAME ON A BUILDING IN YBI. IT WOULD PUT ANOTHER SMILE ON HIS FACE.

TERRY MCDERMOTT